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Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Aryan had met that perfect stranger at an inter-collegiate
badminton championship during the final year of his MBBS. She and her gang of
friends had belonged to a prestigious Engineering college, which was known as
the hub of nerds.

Aryan was playing against Rohan from their college for the
individual championship trophy and he was winning. That was when the cunning
sports chief of their team sent the girls to take position behind Aryan and boo
him while continuously cheering for Rohan. It was emotionally tiring to Aryan as
he had none to support except the two members of their men’s team who had taken
off on a tea break. As expected, he began to lose.

His eyes met with a pair of mischievous and shining eyes, when
he turned to pick the shuttlecock, which he had dropped. It was as if a current
had run through him. As though he had recognized those pair of eyes, her, from a
time that belonged to a forgotten past.

After that Aryan lost steadily, he was busy trying to analyze
the effect the beautiful pair of eyes had created in him.

Throughout the day, he watched her. Vaishnavi- that was her
name. When she won the women’s individual match, he grabbed the opportunity and
joined others to congratulate her.

“Congratulations Vaishnavi. That was a superb game,” he told
while shaking her hands. She smiled at him and he continued to hold her hands,
stunned by the fact that her smile was equally devastating to his feeble heart
as those mesmerizing eyes. He was lost. Like a lost puppy who had found its owner,
he followed her around causing much headache to his team members who knew him
as a person who put his brain before his heart always.

By the end of the day, he managed to get hold of her address
and email id, which was written, in the logbook of participants. At night, he
waited for the dawn. He would meet her again, as it was university team
selection next day.

She wasn’t there though all of her other team members had
arrived. He asked about her casually to her friends and they informed him she
was down with flu.

A few months passed and Aryan continued to roam around with the
old card on which he had her address scribbled and wondered why the strange
girl with whom he hardly knew was occupying his thoughts constantly. Then came
his final exams and he immersed himself in his studies and put his thoughts about her
on a back burner.

Years passed by. After his MD, he went to Australia to
finish his fellowship and while on a coffee break from the hospital, he stepped
into a nearby Café and the same pair of eyes met his.

“Vaishnavi… aren’t you Vaishnavi?”

She appeared taken aback but smiled.

“How do you know me? Yes, I am Vaishnavi?”

“We had met a long time ago during an inter-collegiate
shuttle match. Do you remember me?”

His words jogged her memory and she opened her eyes wide
when she finally recognized him.

“Don’t tell me you are that spooky guy Aryan who followed me
around making my friends tease me like hell,” said Vaishnavi, shaking her head
in disbelief.

“Unfortunately, I am,” said Aryan and sat on the chair
opposite her, ”What are you doing here?”

“I am on an on-site project here. And you?”

After they exchanged news over a cup of coffee, Vaishnavi
asked him why he had followed her around that day.

“I had fallen in love with you that day. Don’t question my
sanity. I was perfectly sane but somehow you made me insane. I was never able
to forget you. You were that one stranger that I longed to forget, but was never
capable of, the one whose memories were the most colourful in my entire life.”

“Aryan, I indeed now doubt your sanity. How can you love a
person whom you hardly know? I might have been in love with somebody else, I
might even be married now,” said Vaishnavi.

“No…you can’t be. If God made us meet unexpectedly, that too
again, he has planned something for us Vaishnavi. Please, do give us a chance. Or
have you fallen in love with that pen friend of yours?” asked Aryan.

“How do you know about my pen friend?” asked Vaishnavi and
then Aryan’s silence told her the answer she needed to know. He was her anonymous
friend, the one who wrote numerous emails to her every month and had become her
closest friend throughout her engineering days until now.

“When I scribbled down your address, I had no definite
agenda. But then, I wanted you to fall in love with me. So I started to email
you. Initially you didn’t reply. Then you replied, and we have remained friends
from then. Why do you think I opted to do my fellowship here? I knew you were
here. I knew you lived in this place and frequently came for tea in this café.
I was always just a step away. I have waited for long Vaishu, I can’t anymore,”
said Aryan.

Vaishnavi stood staring at him and then slowly walked into
his arms, one she had come to love through the many letters that she exchanged
with him. Aryan hugged her with all the love he felt and raised his eyes to
thank the creator.

Friday, February 20, 2015

As a
thousand bloggers around the world join together to speak about compassion in
#1000speak, I too join them to convey to my readers that compassion is
something that the world desperately needs today.

My memories
about compassion come from various sources. Inevitably, they have survived the
ravages of time. They bring to me inspiration when I begin to feel low about
some incident that occurred or after facing a disappointment. I am sharing
anecdotes about three such persons.

Granny: Though I don’t have any photograph of
her with me to show, my granny was a gem of a person. She was the epitome of
kindness and compassion. Though she had five kids, she was fiercely independent
and didn’t want to interfere in the life of her kids. She lived alone in the
big house after all her kids settled well with family. There was this one boy in
her neighborhood, almost my age that my granny helped to educate. He belonged
to a poor family but was intelligent. His father was a drunkard who was a daily
laborer. He would come for dinner every day as there would scarcely be anything
cooked in his house and would use the small outhouse-room to study in peace and
sleep. He completed graduation and is now well settled in life. But he still
reminisces about Granny’s kindness.

My cousins
and I never left her house without filled tummies. She used to say that feeding
a hungry mouth was the biggest act of compassion. Many a gypsy would eat lunch
from her house, every now and then.

2) My
father:

I lost my
father in 2011, but the biggest lessons about compassion that I learnt were from
him. He was a doctor who gave free medicine to the needy, visited his old
patients at home, spent time with them to increase their optimism and also took
great care of his family and friends.

There was
one of his patients, an old lady paralyzed neck down and cared for by her
equally old husband. Every other day this old man would call, asking my father
to visit their home, either to give medicine or do checkups. With regular
treatment, the lady was able to move around in a wheel chair. When my father
was bedridden, I remember having attended this man’s call. He started to weep
and assured me that God would take care of such a compassionate human being.

Many would
come home to visit him and run out of his room sobbing, unable to see the kind angel of their
life, bedridden and struggling to breathe. During the six months that he was
bedridden, I heard many tales about his selfless acts. He was a man who would
give lifts to stranded strangers in bus stops. He would be the first to raise voice
against injustice and crime.

He gave a
homeless family free land to construct house. He had purchased the land with
years of his hard-earned money. But the plight of the family, which had two small kids, who were sleeping on shop verandahs due to a certain political issue in our village moved him.

There is one
incident I remember. There was this drunkard in our neighborhood, who would
regularly put up a show of ‘wife beating’. He would come home drunk, drag his
wife out of his house, and would slander her in the vilest language while
beating her senseless. The poor woman would plead to him and to the small crowd
that had gathered to show mercy. No one would raise a finger against him, as he
was capable of doing anything in his inebriated state.

This man was
a patient of my father. One day, while the act was on, my father passed via the
road. He became furious seeing the way he was treating his wife. Though the
crowd tried to deter him, my father went to him and slapped him right across
his face. That slap brought him to his senses and he started to apologize profusely.
Though the man didn’t quit drinking, he was a drunkard till his death, the
wife-beating stopped completely.

My Japanese manager at Dubai Metro Rail Project was the kindest human being
among all my employers. He would employ anyone whom he thought deserved a
chance, experience and degree certificates held little importance to him. There were many freshers in our team. He
would teach them himself and make an expert out of them. ‘Okay, Okay,Okay” with
a smile was his way of dealing with even the toughest crises.

He would broom his cabin if he had created the
mess. Once accidently he broke his teacup and instead of calling the office boy
to do the cleaning, he went to the storeroom, came back equipped with a broom
and mop and wiped everything clean. He would fiercely protect his employees and
would argue in their favor during times of crises. Such crises were common as
the project was a time bound one and construction was being done in a difficult
terrain. He would own the responsibility for the crisis, whereas any other
manager would have conveniently blamed the site engineer in charge.

Once I asked
him what is one characteristic of Japanese people that he didn’t like.

“I think we
work too hard. We forget to live. When I was small, I never saw my father until
I was in high school. He lived in the same house as us, but when I got up, he
would have gone to office, when he got home, I would be sleeping. I don’t want
it to happen to my kids,” he said.

Our smallest
act of compassion can bring an enormous change into the life of others. Let us
pledge on this day to be a compassionate human being. Let us add that tiny drop
in the ocean of kindness and compassion that need to flood our mother earth to
rejuvenate her completely.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Life changes
with the entry of a little one into our lives. Very soon, our entire world
becomes our child, every moment we think about him/ her and not a moment passes
when you have not been thinking about them. Their happiness becomes your
happiness, their tears becomes your tears.

Gradually we learn to understand their likes
and dislikes, their favorite food, their favorite toys, their sleeping time and
also what makes them ANGRY or HAPPY.

We develop
our own sacred rituals to appease this new god in our world. After a grueling and
tantrum filled day, we require a good night’s sleep and hence nighttime rituals
are de rigueur of the hour.

The most popular
among the tactics are lullabies- either played through mobile phones, television
and laptops or sang by Papa- dear or mamma-dear. Next comes bedtime stories or
picture browsing.

When my son
was born, I was a confused soul. I was scared like hell as all new mothers are,
as to how to manage the delicate being that didn’t seem to have a clue about my
confusion. He snuggled near me for warmth and food. I had sleepless nights
where the ritual would be breast- feeding him and changing nappies. The elders
of the family insisted that I should use cloth napkins and that readymade
napkins would harm the skin of my baby.

I forgot the
idea of a sound sleep soon. My son would wake up every hour or so and would
wail helplessly as the wet sheets (which he had peed on) would disturb him. By
morning there would be buckets full of wet white clothe nappies that would make
our room smell like a public toilet.

I decided to
adopt Pampers and boy, wasn’t that what changed my life? Though during daytime,
mostly to keep the mouth of elders in the family shut, I used cloth nappies,
night times were always pampers times.

Every night
after wiping him clean with baby wipes, I would make him wear Pampers. As pampers
kept him dry all night, he would sleep well. I too could sleep properly.

When he was
a little more older, I think about two months, he would get excited when I made
him wear pampers as it would either signal that we were going out for a walk or
it was his time to swing on his cradle –it was time to sleep. I would watch fondly
as he would kick his hands and legs into air while a he flashed his toothless
smile at me as though he was asking me to hurry up and finish making him wear the
pampers.

Now he is
grown up, a preschooler, but there still are many nighttime rituals.

He would ‘help’
me make bed. And would finish brushing his teeth, empty his bladder and would drink
a glass of water before going to bed.

I have to
read his favorite bedtime story before sleeping. I shouldn’t merely read, I
should solve the puzzles involved in the story of three Billy goats gruff, trade
turns with him for solving it, otherwise mamma is too mean. I cant even cheat
by skipping a few lines or a puzzle. He knows to read now.

“Feeling Sleepy
is a bad good excuse; I should do my duty, because you are my mother! And of
course, I have used the magic word ‘Please’ as always. You shouldn’t cheat. That
is a bad habit.”He insists and I wonder when in the world did my little one,
who delighted me with toothless smiles had become this cranky pre-schooler.

During summer months, he insists that I carry
him and stand directly beneath the fan so that he feels cool. I should be
singing his favorite lullaby non-stop too. Cuddling is another thing that
induces sleep. He wants me to snuggle into his blanket and cuddle him close; he
insists he feels safe that way.

And
sometimes he would roll towards me at night in sleep, snuggle close and whisper
‘I love you mother,’ and my heart would melt. I then thank the creator for
giving him to me.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Every man
dreams and there is no limit to his dreaming capability. I too have my set of
dreams. I day dream about my favorite things and yearn to do things that I
always have wished to do.

I cannot
fulfill them always as many issues come in the path of attaining them. There may
be times when everything falls in place to pursue your dream and then a barrier
comes in the form of a family tragedy, a health issue or a sudden financial scare.
Dreams are shattered this way, very often. Very often, people quit when they
are just a hairbreadth away from attaining their dreams.

If I had a
chance to live my dreams #BefikarUmarBhar, I have my wish list of things I want
to do, achieve.

1) I
would travel all around the world:

I love to
read about places and like to travel to places, but what comes as a hindrance
are often family responsibilities, financial constraints and sometimes health.
If there were no restraints in anything, I would become the wanderlust traveler,
the carefree soul who would visit every nook and corner of the world for the
rest of my life.

2) I would
publish 100 novels:

I know this
is a hard to achieve thing even if you had the normal disciplined routine of a
writer. But I would devote all the hours that I can to writing stories. I would create stories that change lives of
people who read it, because they will inspire them to live life to the fullest.

3) I
would start a library chain:

I have been
a bibliophile since I was a child. I am in love with books. I would start libraries
at various corners of the world to encourage people to read. And of course,
there will be special offers for bibliophiles. I would encourage new writers to
use the library to further their careers. The library would have special section
dedicated to creative writing.

4) I
would give the world to my son:

If I had the
ability to do whatever I wish and however I wish, I would give my son whatever
he wishes for. He would be given the freedom to explore his dreams; he will
find whatever he wishes for at his feet, at the requested time.

5) I
would help eliminate hunger from the world:

Man can’t
tolerate hunger. Yet many around the world die of hunger. If I could do
something to eliminate hunger from the world, I would dedicate myself to it.
There are a thousand ways to help feed a hungry human being. I would use every
one of them to end the pain of hunger. My granny used to say that giving
someone food when they need it the most is the holiest thing in the world. May
be I can elevate my Karma b doing some very good charity in the field of hunger
management.

Those are
the five things that come to me at the moment. I wish they all come true and I
can live a carefree life soon.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

It was a memorable
day, a day that Shreya would never forget. She had visited many places of
mesmerizing beauty in Kodaikanal including the suicide point, which had a
breathtaking view of the valley. It had been as if she was viewing heaven. The
best thing was that her father had been her companion.

Back in
their room, Shreya sensed that her father was distracted, more so than usual.
He was gazing out of the window, which faced a bare wall; he didn’t hear when
she called. Such symptoms were not unusual in her father who was an author. But
this didn’t seem like one of his usual trapped-in-a-story distraction. She knew
her father well enough to understand that something was bothering him; after all,
they had been there for each other for the last eighteen years, from the time
when she was three months old. Her mother had died in a car accident while on a
trip with her friends then.

“Papa, what
is bothering you? Won’t you tell me?” Shreya asked, sitting near her father and
placed her hands on the shoulders of her father.

“eh?” he
asked as though he had not heard her.

“Tell me
Papa, what is bothering you? I have been watching you since the past one hour. The
sandwich I ordered for you, has turned cold, and you haven’t heard a word of
what I have been blabbering in the last hour. Tell me, aren’t we the best of
friends,” Shreya asked, touching her father’s chin as though their roles had
reversed, as though he was a troubled teenager.

Letting out
a deep sigh, Samay Batra smiled, a smile that resembled more like a grimace.

“Just
memories, child. They never seem to leave me alone. Today’s trip was hard on
me. This place holds a lot of memories,” said Samay.

“Tell me
Papa, you always say that sharing your troubles to someone takes away the pain.
Did something remind you of mom, today?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper
as she knew she was entering forbidden territory.

Her father
never talked to her about her mother but she knew he had never been able to
forget her, to let her go. At home, he would gaze at her photo for hours
together on some days. If Shreya asked about her mother, he would change topics
to avoid talking about her.

“Yes kid,
some memories never leave you alone,” said her father.

“But Papa,
haven’t you told me a thousand times that we should not live in the past nor
should allow the past to rule over our present? Why can’t you leave it all where they belong-
right there in your past?”

“Darling,
love, especially unrequited love is something that haunts you forever. You are
never able to come in terms with that if you have fallen hard in love.”

“Unrequited
love? You had married mother with whom you had fallen in love. I can’t
understand you now.”

“Let me make
it clear, I will begin at the beginning. I had met your mother here, right near
that suicide point. I was on a writing trip and she was on a college tour. While
posing for a photo near the viewpoint, she slipped and started to fall. I was
near and caught her. In that moment, I fell in love with her; I thought destiny
had thrown her into my hands. She thanked me, we exchanged address, and I found
that she lived quite near my place back home though we had never met. Like a
flower, I adored her from distance thinking I might harm her in some way. I
didn’t think I deserved her, she was a bubbly, smart girl who brought sunshine
into lives of others. My mother who was worried at my refusal to marry found
about my obsession with Kavya. She approached her parents and they were
thrilled at the proposal of marriage from a bestselling author. We were married
within a month. The Kavya who entered my life was completely different from the
person I fell in love with. She didn’t love me, I was late, she had fallen in
love with a classmate and pined away for him daily. I came to know about it in
a very painful manner,” said her father and paused.

Stunned by
the revelation, Shreya waited for her father to continue.

“She accused
me of marital rape when she found she had fallen pregnant with you. She told me
she never loved me, hated it when I touched her, told me she felt soiled,
dirty. Those were her very words. I begged her to give me one last gift and that
then I would set her free. I asked her the gift of the child she was carrying
inside her.”

“Papa…stop,
I don’t need to hear further,” said Shreya, thinking about how her mother might
have hated her existence right from the beginning.

For a while,
both fell silent. Samay started to tremble with the suppressed sobs that had
been brought forth by memories. Shreya decided that she must hear him out, help
him vent the truth, which he might have never told anyone.

“”Tell me
Papa, then what happened? Tell me, I need to know about that woman who might
have wanted to kill me even before I breathed.”

“No my dear,
she loved you. She doted on you from the moment she came to know about your presence in her body . She hated
me. I couldn’t see the hatred in her eyes. So, I found the person whom she loved
and helped them meet again,” said Samay.

“But why
Papa? Had you stopped loving her? I have seen you watch her photo for hours.
Why did you do it?” Shreya asked.

“Because my
child, true love liberates. If you truly love a person you would set them free,
you would never want to chain them to something that they hate. Their happiness
becomes your happiness,” said Samay.

“And then
what happened?” Shreya asked, deciding to hate her mother even more for having
left her father who loved her so much.

“I shouldn’t
have let them go. They met with an accident five miles from our house and she
was lost to me forever,” said Samay, dropping his face onto his hands, and began
sobbing uncontrollably.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Your skylark is singing again, to brave the darkest hour,
hoping to lure her dawn with the saddest song. The darkest hour of the night is
just before the dawn, so say the wise men of yore. You are my dawn that is
eluding my every attempt at reconciliation. Didn’t you promise me everything and the moon?
Have you forgotten the vows we made?

Years ago, when we promised to be together until death do
us apart, I didn’t think that there would come a day when you would begin to hate
me to the extent that you would storm out of a room if anyone mentioned my
name.

But whatever happens, I can’t seem to hate you. I know
about the hatred you have piled in that corner of your heart where once I had
my own safe haven. I know you don’t trust me anymore. You wouldn’t believe that
I never cheated you, that it was a carefully plotted trap that Priya had woven to
tear us apart. I have all the proof but you didn’t even give me a chance to
explain.

Hadn’t we set a rule that whatever happens we would hear
the other person out before deciding anything? But you broke that rule. You
left me in tears while I tried to explain that your mother never liked me and
had played her part perfectly in the play enacted by Priya and her team. You
never realized that Aryan is Priya’s closest friend, I don’t even know him. All
his claims that we were anything else is false, but you didn’t stop to listen.
You had seen him in our bedroom, but did you know that Priya too was there
then, hiding in the wardrobe waiting for Aryan to enact his role?Would you believe that I was trying to save myself from being raped when you arrived?Can’t you
think that I would never let a stranger in unless they are accompanied by a
friend? Your mother was with me throughout but she sneaked out before you arrived.

But you would not believe me. Sadly, you believed everything
that your mother and Priya told you.

I had thought I had learnt to fill the void you had left
with mindless hours of work. But I am wrong. I wander in the rooms of the home
we built at night, looking for signs of your presence. That lone T-shirt that
you left in the cupboard often gets wet with my tears; I wear your cologne to
breathe in your presence.

I promised my parents that I would move on, undoubtedly,
you had moved on, they said. But why then do I feel assured that you would
return before long, bringing with you the dawn that I await?

I feel forlorn now that you are continents away; the pit
of dread in my stomach is becoming unbearable by the second. A nagging little
voice in the back of my head tells me that your heartstrings have stopped
singing my name, the ravages of time and the flight of memory has torn down the
resistance of that stubborn sinew. I don’t want to hear that, I refuse to
believe.

If it is the truth, just tell me so. I will not write
another word to you. This is my thousandth mail- I wrote one to you every day. I am writing this in the darkest hour of my life. I loathe this
teary existence; I grieve your loss, my lost innocence. I can never be the same
again without you. Your absence has tainted my blood with the poison of your
love. Every sunset reminds me that I have lost yet another day of hope.

The lantern of expectation is now beginning to smoke dark
fumes of despair. The fire of love that kindled it is long exhausted; my wet eyes
crave now for the light of the dawn.

Come my darling, my dawn; do not tell me it is too late. Do
not tell me that the embers of hope have frozen forever.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Shattered Dreams is the sequel to the national bestseller,
Rise of the Sun Prince, in the new spiritual and motivational series Ramayana –
The Game of Life. Twelve joyful years have passed in Ayodhya since the wedding
of Rama and Sita at the end of Book 1.

Now, in Shattered Dreams, Shubha Vilas narrates the riveting
drama of Rama’s exile. Through tales of Rama’s unwavering and enigmatic
persona, the book teaches us how to handle reversals positively; through
Bharata’s actions, it teaches us to handle temptation; and through Sita’s
courage, to explore beyond our comfort zone. This complicated family drama
provides deep insights on how human relationships work and how they fail.

With Valmiki’s Ramayana as its guiding light, Shattered
Dreams deftly entwines poetic beauty from the Kamba Ramayana and
Ramacharitramanas, as well as folk philosophy from the Loka Pramana tales, to
demonstrate how the ancient epic holds immediate relevance to modern life.
Experience the ancient saga of the Ramayana like never before.

Know the author : Shubha Vilas

Shubha Vilas, a spiritual seeker and a motivational speaker,
holds a degree in engineering and law with specialization in Patent Law. His
leadership seminars are popular with top-level management in corporate houses.
He also helps individuals deal with modern-life situations by applying the
teachings of the Bhagavad Gita, Ramayana and other dharmic traditions.

Almost everyone in India knows the story of Lord Rama. Yet,
it never fails to enchant with its many twists and turns. Rama’s story is in fact
a thesis about living life in the pure and noble way. Shattered Dreams talks
about the wisdom Rama exhibits while handling the reversals of fortunes, Keikeyi’s
greed for power, the love and faithfulness of Bharata, Laxmana and Sita -the
shattered dreams of Dasaratha.

When I started reading this book, I was excited, as I had
been greatly impressed by the part one of the book. The book did not disappoint
me at all. Filled with wisdom and many tales, which is not usually part of the
versions of Ramayana that I have read, this book is an absolute delight. The
footnotes make you pause and think. And these footnotes are written in a way to
make the tech savvy generation pause and take note as they speak to them in their
lingo.

An example:

Footnote 53 on page 65: “Death is a universal virus
installed in every individual, programmed to terminate and dissolve the machine
itself. Narada was encouraging Ravana to find the anti-virus software for the
virus named death. A mission impossible.”

Another footnote on page 314 talks about forgiveness:

“Forgiveness is the fragrance that the sandalwood tree
leaves on an axe that cuts it, the stone that grinds it and in the smoke that
burns it.”

The book has separate sections, which elaborate and stress
on the lessons hidden in the dialogues or actions of the various characters.
Page 17 lists the six inner demons or Anarthas to conquer and why they should
be conquered. The author talks about Lust, Rage, Ego, Greed, Illusion and Envy
here.

A section on page 129 talks about the essence of true
communication and explains the deep and communication between Rama and Sita. It
explains how communication can be inaudible yet integral or heartfelt. It
explains how good relationship begins, grows, survives and thrives through
healthy communication.

The section about negative emotions as tools to display
positive love on page 169 is a lesson for any modern day couple. It shows how even disagreements can bring about agreements.

Yet another section that begins on page 334 talks about the
five tenets that form the most important limbs of a leader’s portfolio, where
Rama teaches Bharata how to rule Ayodhya in his absence.

The book fills you with the power of positivity and truth
and encourages us to venture beyond one’s comfort zone in the pursuit of
contentment in life. Life lessons has never been told in a more lucid and eloquent
manner than in this book. A sense of calm empowers you and makes you turn pages
to take in more of the wisdom that lies hidden in the pages that lies ahead. It
heals the soul with the tales it tells and I was sad when the book ended. I am
now waiting for the sequel.

But this is not a onetime read. This book is more like a guidebook,
which will always shed light on life’s many questions. We can adopt the lessons
from the Ramayana in our own lives as it teaches you the efficient way to handle
relationships and confront the vices. Shubha Vilas gifts us the literary
treasure of Ramayana with all the subtle and enduring wisdom of the epic captured
and encapsulated for the benefit of the present generation.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Clutter is the biggest source of energy drain in every
household. Unknown to us, unused electronic items, clothes, books all add to
the clutter in our life draining the much needed positive energy or CHI from
any house. These items have a negative energy field and hence we need to remove
this clutter from our home to bring in positive energy. Things that remind you
of a lost loved one, a pet or an unremarkable past often become items that should
be trashed.

Many people tend to sell such items using Quikrand buyers get it at a rate,
which proves to be quite a steal.

I have explored quikr before and experienced problems while
trying to buy. Some of the sellers failed to pick up the calls. Some others had
given vague details online while I wanted more details about the product. Some
dealers would post the ad for a single item and when I contacted them, they
would insist I had to buy in bulk and that they won’t sell a single piece.

These days if you call somebody, you inevitably end up in
their whatsapp contacts list. Thus our display picture becomes a public
property if we are not careful. Many even use the opportunity to ping complete
strangers and disturb them with lewd messages, videos and even phone calls. It
is such an invasive world. It is very hard to protect our privacy when we are
dealing with online clients or buying from complete strangers.

When I heard about Quikr NXT, I found the idea of the app
quite impressive. With Quikr NXT, a buyer and seller can maintain privacy and
contact each other by using the chat facility provided by the app. The app
records the chat history and facilitates exchange of photos. Moreover, the best
thing is the facility is available as a mobile app and at the Quikr website.

Benefit for the
seller:

For the seller this facility is a boon. He/she need not
worry about calls coming in at inconvenient times or forgetting about the
amount they had quoted for a particular item to a buyer. The app keeps the
complete chat history saved.

Every seller would be reluctant to display his private phone
number to the world. With Quikr NXT, the person is able to interact with his
buyers just by using his Quikr ID. He can ensure that his number remains
private throughout the transaction.

Benefit for the
Buyer:

For a buyer too this is a boon. Whenever he/she is online, they
can leave a message requesting details or showing interest. They can give
details of their requirement and can even request for more views of the actual
product. We can even request direction
details to visit the seller at their shop or house with more accuracy and
convenience.

There would be fewer hassles involved in buying and selling.
I am sure this app is going to bring the buyers and sellers across the nation
closer than before. Even I am now thinking about opening a Quikr account
myself.

A chance to meet the bloggers, whom I adore and those whom I
stalk online- that is one event I would never want to miss. The Indiblogger
meet at ITC Gardenia was hence a much-awaited event for me. Ever since I
registered for the event, I was counting the hours, nay seconds to meet my
fellow bloggers. That it was happening at a very luxurious restaurant added a
certain charm to it and made it a magical experience.

When I entered the ITC Royal Gardenia- a 5 star hotel in Bengaluru, along with my family, the following
sign in the lobby welcomed me.

I was happy I had finally reached the place, at
the scheduled time. When I saw Sid Balachandran (www.iwrotethose.com), otherwise
known as Mr. Fiction among us, I told my husband “Yes…now I am among friends,
you can leave.”

That was the beginning. I met bloggers that I follow through
their blogs and Facebook one by one. Indrani Ghose (ishare), Rachna Sreevastav
Parmar, Shylaja- we all were eager to know each other. Sreesha Divakaran
(Petrichor and clouds) who is another good friend soon joined me and we were
inseparable until the end of the meet, exchanging news and getting to know each
other.

The program began with song ‘Sweet Dreams’ sung by the home
band of Indiblogger. It was followed by an ice-breaking session of fifteen
minutes where we were asked to move around meeting other bloggers and trade
personal belongings as mementos. The person who collected the maximum number of
items were given a chance to speak and won gift vouchers from ASUS.

Mr. Chu giving the presentation of the products

After that, the product Manager of ASUS India, Mr. Chu
introduced the products ASUS Eeebook and ASUS All in One PC and answered the queries from the tech
bloggers who had many doubts regarding the products. I have written a post about these products HERE.

Team leaders being briefed about the game plan

A game followed next-About Blogging. The whole audience was
divided into four teams.We had to create an Ad to promote blogging and present
a skit. The blogger who was able to guess the theme of the team through a tweet
was assured of a gift voucher from ASUS. Our theme was-Pirates of the Caribbean,
we presented a skit showing online piracy of posts. It was huge fun planning
and presenting the skit.

Then it was dinnertime- time for some yummy food. We had
already tasted some starters while the function was going on and the dinner was
a really sumptuous one. After dinner, we said our good-byes, promising to keep
in touch via social media and blogs.

I am already looking forward to another one such meet. Thank
you Indiblogger and ASUS for arranging such a memorable meet.